Companion
by smidget
Summary: While Harry and Hermione mourned the departure of Ron, Ron mourned the departure of his sanity. Deathly Hallows missing moment.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

_**Companion**_

Ron finally found his way back to the campsite only to find it deserted.

The ground was still damp from the rain the previous night and sky was overcast, threatening more precipitation. But Ron had bigger problems at the moment than getting a little wet and his mind was not on the weather. Seated on a large rock, Ron's head was bent low, his elbows resting on his knees. He stared at his right hand from which two fingernails were missing and rubbed at it absently with his other.

He really was rubbish at Apparating he decided. First he makes one of the worst mistakes of his life and goes off and splinches himself again and then on his way back he ends up miles from where he meant to be. Where he was _supposed _to be. Ron supposed that the latter may have had something to do with all the protective enchantments Hermione had been putting up around their camp sites, but as he was not feeling particularly generous with himself at the moment, he pushed that thought from his mind.

A light drizzle of rain began to fall as Ron sat there and he let the cool water trickle through his hair and down his neck. It felt refreshing. He wished it felt more cleansing. He felt horribly dirty.

For a moment, Ron's thoughts strayed to the Burrow where he could get a nice hot shower and a warm meal. It was practically a stone's throw away if he could only Apparate there. He wasn't sure he trusted himself to get anywhere at the moment, but Ron couldn't deny that he was sorely tempted by the idea of sleeping in his own bed, being in his home with his family. It seemed like forever since he'd seen them. He worried about them everyday, hoping that they were all right.

What was it Ted Tonks had said again? _"I mean, the Weasleys don't need any more of their kids injured, do they?"_

Ron shuddered at the thought of any of his siblings injured badly enough for it to be news anywhere. There were certainly enough of them and odds were against them. But maybe Hermione was right and nothing new had happened since they'd left. Maybe he'd overreacted. He'd been such a prat. What had he been _thinking_?

Ron groaned and buried his face in his hands. He was worried about his family, but it was no reason to take it out on Harry and Hermione, who, really, were family too. How could he have said those things?

_"It's all right for you isn't it, with your parents safely out of the way--" _

_"My parents are dead!"_

Recalling the look on Harry's face as he'd yelled this made Ron feel even worse. Everyone knew that Harry's parents were dead… they were famous for it, but sometimes Ron forgot just how much that affected Harry. He'd lived almost his whole life without parents, had never really talked about them much, and Ron had supposed sometimes (in not some of his better moments) that if you'd never really known someone there was only a certain extent to which you could miss them.

Ron really questioned his sanity sometimes.

No, as he reflected more, Ron knew that this wasn't right, that Harry missed his parents terribly. He just wasn't the type to show it, but there were tells. All of Harry's attempts to convince them to go to Godrics Hollow were just one indication. There was also the eager look Harry's face always took on at any mention of his parents and the way he'd brighten visibly whenever one of their professors compared Harry to either his mum or dad. No, Ron knew, Harry missed his parents as much as he himself would if he ever lost his.

Which was a very real possibility these days, wasn't it?

Again, Ron was tempted to go to the Burrow, to check in on his family, but he knew right away that everyone there would be more than furious with him. It must be getting around the Christmas holidays and Ginny might be home. She'd be less than impressed that he'd walked out on Harry and Hermione. Ron quickly decided that he didn't want them to know, didn't want Ginny to find out what he'd done.

But then, where could he go? He had little hope of finding Harry and Hermione now that they'd left the campsite. He didn't waste any time thinking that they'd be more lax in their protective enchantments in hopes of his return. He wasn't sure they'd even _want_ him back after the way he'd acted.

Ron quickly pushed that thought from his mind. He wasn't going to give up on them. He just needed a safe place to think out a plan.

He wondered, as he sat there, what had happened to his brain. _I was insane to leave, utterly insane_.

Now, where could he go to find his sanity and get back to his friends? Because, they were still his friends, and he was theirs. When he got back, he'd prove it to them.

The Burrow was definitely out. Even if he did manage to avoid the wrath of Ginny and the disappointment of his parents he was sure that his mum would never let him out of her sight long enough for him to leave again. Fred and George had their place above the joke shop, but Ron could easily picture the twins taking this whole situation worse than Ginny, and there were _two_ of them. Charlie was, as far as Ron knew, out of the country, and didn't have his own place in the country that Ron knew of anyway. Percy wasn't even worth considering, which left Bill.

That actually wasn't a bad idea.

Ron stood up from the rock and began pacing as he tried to play out the scenario of him staying with Bill. He'd be mad at first, there was no getting around that, but Bill had always been a levelheaded guy and he'd always been good to Ron. Oldest brothers were usually the reliable sort. And the only reason he could think of for Fleur being a problem was the chance that he'd die of embarrassment. Ron was fairly certain he could find a place with Bill, at least for a little while until he could come up with something else.

Shell Cottage it was then. Now, he just had to pull himself together enough to Apparate there, preferably with no splinching involved.

Taking one last look at his dreary surroundings, Ron closed his eyes and focused firmly on his destination. Turning sharply on the spot, Ron vanished with a slight _pop_ and then the clearing was empty.

* * *

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all_. 

Ron rubbed at his sore jaw and shifted uneasily on the couch. Bill was seated in a chair across from him rubbing at his red fist and Fleur was in the kitchen fixing up some ice for his aching head. The two brothers refrained from speaking while they waited for Fleur to return.

He had known that Bill would be angry; he should have been expecting the punch. But of course, he hadn't. He'd stepped over the threshold of the cottage after proving his identity, out of the brisk, cold air and into Bill's fist. He hadn't even told Bill what had happened. Apparently, he hadn't needed to.

Fleur walked back into the room with a bag of ice wrapped in the cloth and handed it to Ron who put it against his jaw and winced.

"Serves you right," Bill said quietly, watching him closely.

"What if-" Ron cut off abruptly as pain shot through his jaw, swallowed, and started again. "What if I'd been coming for help?" he asked, indignantly as he could, not that he deserved to.

"Serves you right anyway for leaving in the first place with no warning. Mum's been worried to death about you three."

"She knew it was coming," Ron retorted sullenly but he ducked his eyes. "She kept trying to sabotage us."

"She is not easily fooled, your mother," Fleur put in and Ron and Bill nodded in agreement.

"And you weren't coming for help, were you. Not with the way you're just sitting there." Bill's eyebrows were raised almost mockingly. "You didn't exactly look as though you were panicked, more like you did when you broke Fred's broom and hid it in the attic." Bill paused, and reflected. "Good move, not heading to Fred and George's, by the way. Can't imagine they'd be too happy with you either."

"I didn't know where else to go but here," Ron admitted. "I couldn't exactly just waltz into the Burrow, could I?"

"No," Bill agreed, but didn't offer any more.

Fleur had seated herself on the arm of Bill's chair and leaned against him. Bill took her hand and grasped it firmly. Ron watched the exchange and thought of Hermione, and Harry, alone, off in the wilderness together.

_Don't be stupid_, he thought and he knew it was. Again, brain lapse.

Bill shifted his weight in his chair, leaning forward. "They are all right, aren't they?" he asked earnestly. "Harry and Hermione?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Just angry as hell, I'd imagine."

Bill smiled wryly and the scars on his face twisted. "I'd imagine so"

"What was I _thinking?_ I mean, I've done some stupid stuff" -Bill snorted- "but never anything to this magnitude. Was I completely out of my mind?"

Ron put down the ice and raised both his hands, running them angrily through his hair. His splinched fingers, which were bleeding again, stung at the contact and he hissed in pain. He lowered his hand to inspect it.

"How did you do that?" Fleur asked, rising from her seat and taking Ron's hand into her own. In other circumstances he'd have turned a flaming shade of red, but not now.

"Splinched myself," he muttered and pulled his hand away.

"Why did you not say something before? It is easy enough to fix." She pulled out her wand and after a twirled sort of wave the skin on Ron's fingers healed over but the nails were still missing. They didn't hurt anymore. Fleur took her seat on the chair's arm again.

"Thanks," he said. "I guess I forgot."

"In the five minutes since you've been here?" Bill asked skeptically.

"No, from before. There were these other guys who found me, thought I was a muggleborn on the run, wanted to turn me in or something. I Apparate away, but I guess I was a little panicked."

"Snatchers?" Bill asked urgently.

Ron shrugged, a little alarmed at Bill's tone. "I don't know."

"I bet they were. They just let you Apparate out of there? Did they figure out who you were?"

Bill's voice made Ron sit up a little straighter. He sounded so urgent. "They didn't seem too bright to be honest. Told them I was Stan Shunpike, you know the guy who used to work on the Knight Bus? Don't know if they believed me but while they were off checking I got the hell out of there."

"You were lucky." Bill said. Ron raised his eyebrows, waiting for his brother to elaborate. "There are groups of wizards out searching the country for muggleborns or blood traitors on the run. They're called Snatchers. They turn whoever they find into the ministry for a reward and there are certainly enough Hogwarts students out there who couldn't go back to school and had nowhere else to go.

"Some of them are barely out of school themselves, just out to make a few extra galleons. But some of them are serious. I've heard Greyback's out there hunting down stragglers."

At the mention of Greyback, Bill's hands gripped at the chair tightly and his face darkened. Fleur wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I guess I was lucky," Ron said, even though he felt anything but lucky at the moment.

Again, silence fell over them, but it wasn't long until Bill said. "We have an extra room. You can stay here for a while."

"You won't tell mum?"

"I won't tell mum. On one condition."

"What's that?"

"Get to work on finding Harry and Hermione," he said seriously. "I don't care how you do it, but you're going back. You may have temporarily lost your sanity, but now that it seems back in place, you know you have to go back."

Ron stared at his older brother, his shoulders square and his aching jaw clenched tight. "I know," he said. "I'd do anything to be back now." He paused. "Thanks for letting me stay, you guys."

Bill let something of a smile grace his face. "What are brothers for?" He face became more serious. "You're a good brother, Ron. We all know that, even Harry." Harry was his brother, no one argued that. "You're a good friend too. Now it's time to act like it."

Bill and Fleur stood and Bill offered his hand to help Ron up. Ron took it gratefully, realizing how exhausted he was. He followed the couple to the spare room, closed the door behind him and collapsed on his bed.

"I'll find a way back," he murmured into the pillow. He was asleep before he felt the deluminator, ever in his pocket, vibrate at his words, humming in agreement.

* * *

**AN: So, this goes along with my other oneshot, Friends, which features Harry and Hermione right after Ron left. It's a companion piece, which is actually where I got the name, but it fits with Friends. A few of the quotes come right from DH.**

**Why not let me know what you think?**


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